for all those passionate throes until now, left unsung, about music

Monthly Archives: March 2015

When I was 14, I got the “Zero” tee to tell all the world that I loved the Smashing Pumpkins. It helped me befriend a fellow “Pumpkin Head” as we called ourselves. I remember when “Thirty-Three” came out. I remember thinking, “Gee, Billy, I wonder what 33 feels like. Will I understand this song even more then? Will it ring true with me moreso then than now?” The other night, I felt melancholy (reference intended) and I just couldn’t shake it. As I folded laundry feeling listless, I plugged in the Smashing Pumpkins 1991-2000 video collection (I did finally get the DVD version).

Suddenly, I was 14 again, taking the bus with my best friend to the used record store in Blacksburg and saving up for electric guitars. I watched Billy with long, curly hair and decided, though I like long hair on men, he was more attractive with a short cut, and even more handsome bald. That aside, I watched as D’arcy inspired me to play the bass, James made me discover an attraction to Asian men, and mourned as Jimmy was temporarily gone due to drug addiction. I laughed at them painting an ice cream truck, singing a song that sounds happy but was, in fact, written at a time where Billy was very suicidal.

I thought of an old friend who met Billy with me. I wondered how she was doing and why people who share such an immense bond lose touch. I sat, with unfolded socks in my lap as I watched Thirty-three in its entirety…and I cried. Here I am, the age I always said was a “Smashing Pumpkins age” reflecting on my youth. “Misspent youth, fakin’ up a rampage…” and I realized that life goes on. Thanks, Lennon-McCartney. Maybe it was something about the lingering winter in the Northeast this year. Maybe it was the fact that it snowed heavily on the first day of spring, after a terribly abusive winter. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m clinically depressed, or that that certain old friend’s birthday was on hand.

Either way, I watched the gorgeous, artfully-done video (all done with camera film in still frames) with a sort of undescribable melancholy. I know that those days are a product of my insanely good long-term memory. I know that I certainly wouldn’t want to be a lamenting Rachael, waiting for the true love of her life…wading through her own demon rivers of self-denial and emotional hardship…

It made me want to reach out and hug all those I’ve ever known. Except for that wicked girl I’ve forgiven, of course, who not only hurt me, but worse, hurt my friends, with her words. But enough of that.

There was a time in life where Pumpkin fans would just look at one another and say, “You like them too?” and it was as though you’d reunited with a friend you’d had from long ago. Perhaps that is what made me melancholy. Maybe I’ve been disconnected from a fan base that helps me thrive. I miss Julie’s laugh, this hearty “hah hah hah” when she’s delighted. It made me miss the way Amy would emit, “FUCK MY LIFE!” but with laughter when something silly happened. I remember running for the Two Town Trolley with Lindsey decades before she became a half-marathon runner (I’m proud of you, lady).

I remember cherishing the “Just Say Maybe” SP shirt with the red star on it that I stole from my brother. (Thanks, Jeremy.)

Just say maybe. Maybe it’s time to reunite with my musical mon amies. In case you’d like to pontificate on this beautiful sentiment from my past, here it is:

5. A live album of your favorite band (I suggest anything by Pearl Jam, of course)

6. Metallica’s Ride the Lightning or Garage Days

7. Devin Townsend (anything from a heavy era)

8. 80s mix. Simple Minds. A-ha! Men at Work. Devo. David Bowie

9. Heavy tracks from Smashing Pumpkins

10.Dave Matthews Band or Stone Temple Pilot’s Core, whichever way you swing 🙂

My favorite of these is Soundgarden’s BadMotorFinger. I’ve been known to burn over 500 calories, with eyes closed, on the elliptical. Also, this album weighs in at over 45 minutes, so it’s the perfect motivator to go the distance.

Though short-lived, due to Shannon Hoon’s tragic meeting with a heroin-induced death, Blind Melon’s first formation was a celebratory and introspective early 90s band. Popular for their “No Rain” single with the Bee Girl in the video, Blind Melon’s albums contrast that hit at times with blue-sy, gutsy rock and roll. Some reflections of this can be seen in their self-titled (1992) debut album in tracks such as “Tones of Home” and “Holy Man.”

In later years, the band reformed and I cannot speak of that because I wasn’t aware of the reunion until I sat to write this very post. I can, however, say that Blind Melon was one of my all-time favorite albums in the 90s, and yes, I do still have my original copy of the CD. So, if you are only familiar with the “No Rain” track, I suggest you slice off a bigger piece of Melon and enjoy the tasty bits of blues and soul, with a side of harmonica.